Power
by Wolvertique
Summary: An unusual romance begins with an accident in Scotland during a rainstorm.
1. Default Chapter

Author's Note: I've been trying to write a story based on the following song lyric for weeks now. This is what I have so far. 

"Never really needed to know you, yeah, till I heard you sing to me at night." -- 8x10, Fefe Dobson

****************************************

Kitty Pryde was in trouble and she knew it. The twenty-two year old had hit a bad patch of weather over the British Isles (not surprising) that she shouldn't have, but her eyes had been blurring from lack of sleep. It had been two days since the X-men had called her in for some special research on a matter related to Nathaniel Essex. She hadn't slept, trying to absorb all the data she could. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

Then her research led her to the idea of doing further study in England. She had begged to take the Blackbird, despite her suddenly dry throat and burning eyes, and she had been allowed to do so provided she took someone else with her.

She took Lockheed.

She felt hot and dizzy as she tried to keep the plane steady. Lockheed chirped at her, worried, as she trembled, her hands twitching on the controls. She tried to smile. "Any chance you know how to land a plane, too, miracle worker?"

Lockheed hopped down to the computer console and tapped on a few keys. The plane leveled off and started going down smoothly. Kitty sighed and relaxed in her chair. Good old Lockheed. Her head lolled back, her eyes closed, and she slipped into a dark dream.

***************************

He sat alone in his cabin in Scotland, reading a book. It was how he spent much of his time these days, now that he had rejected bending to the wills of others. "Bloody sot," he murmured, turning a page. Sauron reminded him, uncomfortably, of those who had taken his reins in the past. "And don't even get me started on Grima, either," he muttered. "Servile nutter."  


He was so engrossed in his book, he didn't notice at first that someone was hammering on his door. When he did, he sighed. "Bloody salesmen."

He walked through his dark living room to his door, pausing to set his book down on the end table by his chair. He checked the small screen monitor of his laptop in the foyer. It showed pouring rain and a small something outside the door. A dog? About the right size, but not the right color. He dropped down and sat Indian style before the computer, enhancing the focus on the camera. The image sharpened and became a small dragon. Lockheed?

Well. This could end up being quite a pisser.

He carefully took a standard pistol from the gun rack by the door, clicked off the safety, and opened the door as the dragon flew up to beat against it again. Surprised, Lockheed flew into his house past his face, spattering rain over his carpet and into his mouth.

"What? Get out of here." He pointed to the door.

The dragon breathed a curl of fire at him in warning. He frowned. "Whatever you've heard about me is wrong. I won't succumb to threats."

Lockheed blinked, then ran over to his leg and pulled at his pants, then looked at the door. He sighed. "You want me to go out in the bloomin' rain for some shirty girl who's part of a group of people who bleedin' hate me, don't you?"

The dragon nodded once, crisply, then opened his eyes wide and tried to look pathetic.

He laughed bitterly. "Save it. I've done better than you in my day." He walked over to the closet and pulled out his slicker. He gestured to the dragon with the pistol. "Gonna need this, or no?" Lockheed shook his head no.

The man pulled out a hat, put it on, grabbed his car keys from the slot below the gun rack, closed up the rack again after putting the safety back on the pistol and putting it away, and mock-bowed to the dragon. "After you." The dragon willingly flopped out into the wet weather again and the man followed him.

***********************************

She was warm, almost too warm. A gentle English accented voice was talking soothingly in the background. "There now. All tucked in, nightlight on, monitor connected so's I can look in on you if you need it, and a dragon who'd never dream of setting the place on fire." The last part was said with an undercurrent of warning.

A warm weight settled on her stomach. It hurt. She groaned a little and turned toward the voice in hope. The voice laughed. "Lay off, there, you overgrown mutt." The weight shifted to lie against her left side, cuddled between her arm and her ribs.

Footsteps were going away. She turned toward them again. She wasn't sure why, but she felt near panic at the idea of being alone. "Please …" she managed through hot, dry lips.

"Yes?" The steps returned and a weight settled on the right side of the bed. She was on a bed.

"Don't go."

There was a pause. All she could hear was Lockheed's breathing and her own pulse in her head. "Sure you know what you're saying, Kitty?"

A tear formed at the inside corner of her right eye, sliding under her lid to the outside corner, then tickling out and down her cheek. She couldn't stop it. "Please."

The man's breath caught. He released it in an audible sigh. "Never thought I'd hear anyone say that and mean it. Sure. I'll stay."

His voice sounded familiar. Yet it was different than it had been when she'd heard it before. She knew that. Hm.

Something was dragged across the carpeted floor, probably a chair. "You mind a bit of music as you drop off?"

She smiled and turned away from him. Music was just fine.

"I'll take that as a yes." Soon, instrumental music was playing, and she was sinking deeply into the pond of sleep.

********************************

He sat, watching Kitty sleep in his bed. He'd never had a woman in his bed before, one who slept there, anyhow. One he hadn't needed to pay to get her in the door. He brushed a hand through his neatly groomed reddish brown hair, his deep brown eyes gentle for once as he saw her sigh and reach out to Lockheed.

The instrumental turned to the beginning of one of his favorite songs from Phantom. Quietly, not wanting to awaken either of his guests, he sang the words, noting the irony as he did.

"No more talk of darkness, forget these wide-eyed fears. I'm here, nothing can harm you. My words will warm and calm you …"  


He'd never been much protection to anyone. Tried to lead the Brotherhood, but that didn't really work out. The only thing that seemed to work was hiding from everyone else. He'd been hated his whole life, even by those who used him.

But as he sang, he let a small spark of hope spring to life.

"All I want is freedom, a world with no more night, and you, always beside me, to hold me and to hide me. Then say you'll share with me one love, one lifetime …"  


Right. His own mum and dad didn't want to spend a life with him, did they? How could any woman choose the Phantom over a rich, handsome man? He couldn't see it. Beauty never chose the Beast in real life, only in fairy tales. Of course, Phantom showed it the way it really was.

"Love me, that's all I ask of you …" he sang in a rich tenor, nearly sobbing it, as the music swelled. He grinned a little despite himself. "Move over, Michael Crawford."

****************************

She always had nightmares when she had a fever. In fact, she always had the same nightmare. In it, somehow, her fingers got pricked by a needle and she fell, fast, frightening.

The nightmare began as it always did. The needle was stretched out between her fingers horizontally. She brought them together reflexively, and it pierced her index finger and thumb. She started to fall, but a man caught her with his voice. Sean Cassidy?

No. She'd heard Sean sing. This wasn't him. It was soothing, though. She let him hold her, keep her from falling down into the darkness. No more talk of darkness. She concentrated on his voice, his words, his passion holding her up, making her float and fly.

She broke to the surface and opened her eyes as he turned away and said something about being Michael Crawford. In the dim lamplight, though, he didn't look like him. He looked like a cleaned up version of … the Toad?

She closed her eyes again fast. He did not react. She breathed evenly, trying to fake sleep, while she turned this over in her mind. The Toad had taken her in, saved her from her nightmare? She would never have imagined the Toad singing at all, much less singing so emotionally. She kept the memory close as she went back to sleep this time, a sleep free of nightmares.


	2. The Next Morning

She woke up the next morning in intense pain. Her whole body ached. Her throat hurt, her eyes burned, she was dizzy, and her head felt like it was flying away from her neck. She had been having the weirdest dreams, about a normal-looking Toad who sang her to sleep.

The room she woke up in was sparsely furnished. It was paneled in golden oak with a basic brown carpet on the floor. The bed fit her narrow body pretty well. She was lying under a green bedspread with a pretty pattern of darker green leaves on top. There were two small paintings on the wall, one of an Irish setter jumping, the other of a forest with a small creek bubbling through it.

A rocking chair sat, empty, by the room's only door. In the gray light from the large window, the single lamp on the mission style end table looked old and worn. A small bookshelf set into the wall across from the bed, half-full of books, completed the room's contents.

Lockheed had sneaked under her covers sometime during the night. She looked under them and blushed. She wore a pink nightgown and nothing else. "Lockheed?" she asked, nervous.

The dragon yawned and crawled out, scratching himself. He carefully placed his tail across her forehead and yipped, pulling it back as if it had been scorched. She plucked at her nightgown, still concerned. He cuddled into her neck. "It's okay Kitty Kitty," he said in a light, flat, unaccented voice.

"So. You're awake." The voice didn't sound happy as it blasted into the room from above her head. "Suppose you'll be wanting your breakfast. I'll be up with it in a bit, then we'll discuss the rules." His voice cut off. She frowned. One of the panels above her head must conceal a speaker for an intercom system.

"Lockheed? I'm in Toad's house, right?" Lockheed puffed out a spark and nodded.

She clutched him to her pink ruffled chest. "It's not going to be easy to pick up a phone and call the Professor, then."

The door opened and the man himself entered, carrying a tray. His hair was clean and neat, his khaki pants had fresh creases, and his light green sweater covered his shirt to just below its brown collar. The tray had a mound of yellow scrambled eggs and a tall glass of orange juice on it.

His dark eyes flickered over her and her friend. "Sit up." He waited as she struggled into a sitting position. Lockheed pushed a pillow behind her head to prop her up. She clutched the covers to her neck and stared up at Toad.

His mouth twisted in cynical amusement. "Oh, please, give it up. Who do you think put that gown on you, Jehovah?" He settled the tray across her lap as she fidgeted at the idea of him seeing her, uncomfortable under his regard. She sniffed, but couldn't smell the food through her stuffed up nose.

There were two round white pills on her tray, as well as two pieces of buttered toast. He tapped the tray to get her attention. "Now. Pay attention, honored guest." His sarcasm was apparent. She looked up as he began pacing, glancing at her between steps. "To continue enjoying the hospitality of Toad Hall, you need to follow a few simple rules. They tell me you're a clever girl, so it should be easy to understand, even through this nasty flu you've got. Do not attempt to contact anyone outside my humble abode for any reason. No one will contact you." Out of the corner of his eye, he caught her disbelieving expression. He turned and looked at her with arrogant confidence. "All that time I spent with Magneto was not solely spent bootlicking and cringing, you know. I have some talent."

Kitty's face cleared and she began thinking. He sounded defiant, but there was an undertone of something … what was it?

"So." He walked away from her again. "I disabled your communicator and all communication devices on your craft, with the help of your little scaly friend, of course."

Her mouth fell open. "Lockheed!" Her cry of surprise caused him to raise his nose from the toast he had been licking on her plate.

He cleared his throat. "Kitty Kitty needed help." He cocked his head at her and opened his eyes wide, batting his eyelids.

"Yes. Your animal agreed to these terms already, on your behalf." He towered over her again. "Right. You don't try to raise your friends. I care for you and let you leave when you are well. You come up with a story, any story at all, to explain where you've been and what you've been doing. But you never mention my home or me to anyone else. I don't care who asks or for what reason. Not for Xavier, not for Wolverine, not even your God should he show his face again. Got it?"

She nodded. "I won't tell anyone." It settled over her in a flash and she gave a sudden smile. Hurt. Toad had sounded like many of the new mutants did when they first came in to Xavier's, desperate to prove his worth, though he doubted anyone else would believe him.

"Good." He backed up. "Eat and drink all of it. Take the pain medicine." He turned away, heading to the door.

"Thank you." She took a forkful of eggs. "What should I call you? What's your real name, I mean?"

He laughed, stopping but not turning to face her. "It's so bad that being called Toad's an improvement, believe it or not."

She nodded as he opened the door. "I liked the song. It was beautiful."

He pirouetted gracefully and mock-bowed to her in the doorway. "Just call me Andy."

The door closed and she put the eggs in her mouth. They didn't hurt her throat. In fact, they felt kind of good.

She looked at Lockheed with her achy, burning eyes. "At least you're here with me."

Lockheed ate the last of her toast. "Gleep."


	3. Bored

She was bored. She had read two of Toad's books, but her eyes hurt now and she was having a hard time understanding most of them. She'd just had a nap and didn't want another.

She scratched Lockheed's head. The dragon moved his head so she could scratch his itchy spots. He pulled his head back and yawned, his tongue stretched out.

"What do you think I should do, Lockheed?" She sighed. "I'm so bored. I'm tired. I can't sleep any more. I ache."

She wasn't really expecting him to answer, so when he did, she was surprised. "Call him."

"Call who?"

Lockheed blinked. "Call him. He has ideas."

Toad? Oh. Toad certainly did have ideas.

She paused. She didn't want to bother him. He'd been very available to her over the past few days, of course. He had sung her to sleep, gotten her medication, told her a few stories, and had revealed a very wry and sarcastic sense of humor that she rather liked.

He had also been standoffish, sensitive, stubborn, and angry to varying degrees. He was rude when she mentioned wanting her mother, indifferent when she talked about God, and left her alone for hours after she noticed him using his tongue to steady himself as he jumped down the hallway.

"What kind of a mood do you think he's in?" She waited. Lockheed yawned.

"Well?" she asked impatiently.

Lockheed ducked his head under a wing. "Always better with Kitty."

She didn't have the energy to swing a fist at him in play. "You think that about everyone." She sighed and thought for a moment, then spoke toward the oak panel that hid the intercom speaker. "Andy?"

His voice responded. "Who's Andy?"

"You are. Remember?" She waited, thinking of his graceful sway at the door as he announced that he was Andrew Lloyd Webber the day she woke up here.

He paused. "I prefer Drew."

She laughed. "Drew. Can you come here? I'm kinda bored, and if you're not doing anything …"

Toad didn't respond for a full minute. "What do you want?"

"I don't know. Read me a story. Get a VCR in here. Heck, give me a laptop to play with."

"Hm. Five minutes." The intercom clicked off.

Lockheed contentedly curled up under her left arm. "Gleep." He sounded smug.

She patted him. "Did not."

It took him ten, but Toad joined her, walking slowly into the room, carrying a laptop computer. He put it on her tray and turned it toward her.

"Trackball or mouse?" she asked as she tried to open it.

"Neither." He waited.

She finally found the catch and released it. The screen was lighting up with an odd logo, a green frog. The frog's tongue licked out and the words "A ToadCo Product" glowed white against the black background. She reached out to touch it, amazed.

"Best not do that." He watched as she put her hand down on the tray.

"You made this?" She turned it over, looking for a logo.

"Built it from the ground up. Just like this place. Well, the electronics, anyhow." He pulled the rocking chair up and sat in it, legs curled onto the seat, green socked feet peeking out from under his brown knees. "There's more."

The desktop lit up. He had a picture of a toad on it, of course. There were small icons on it, all shaped like bugs. They were labeled "Typing," "Time Wasters," "Tools," "Trash," and "Terminix." She looked for the track ball before she remembered. She frowned at the laptop. It had the standard gray keys, but there was nothing to show how to do what she wanted. "Do I have to use shortcut keys?"

He leaned in toward her, his dark eyes alight with humor. "Try touching it now."

She touched "Time Wasters." The toad's tongue licked out and "ate" the cockroach icon, and a list of games popped up on the screen instead. She giggled. "That's cute."

He took her hand when she would have touched something else. "A warning." His skin was smooth and warm on the back, rough and warm in his palm. "Don't touch Terminix unless you want the comp shut down."

She left her hand in his for the moment and brought up Minesweeper after the toad licked it. "How good are you at this?"

"Building computers?"

"I can tell you're good at that." She playfully swiped at him with her free hand. He didn't try to dodge. She missed by a mile.

"I don't play much." He let go of her right hand and withdrew from her, leaning back in the chair. His thumb had been gently kneading her sore muscles. She wouldn't have minded him keeping it.

She closed out of the game. "'Typing' is some form of word processing program, right?"

He bent over to her again. "My own."

"You made one?" She touched it. The toad ate the ant hungrily and belched out a white screen called "Document."

"Not like it's hard, though your Microsoft likes to pretend it is." He scooted the rocking chair as close as he could, then turned the screen toward himself and tapped the keys rapidly.

They spent several hours together. Kitty was more and more fascinated. Toad was an inventor, an architect, and while his expertise tended more toward how computers were made rather than how to use them, he was no slouch in that area, either. He was fascinating, on the whole. He moved with style and vigor.

She wondered if he would ever consider joining the X-men.


	4. Reflecting

He knew he was being silly.

He had accepted his ugliness years ago, at the orphanage, where his bugged out eyes and thick, wide mouth contrasted unattractively with his skinny form, earning him his nickname.

He still searched the mirror, desperately trying to find something about himself that wasn't awful to look at.

He dismissed his body. Sure, he worked out and had some natural strength there, especially in the lower half. But women weren't interested in men's bodies anyhow. And so what? Even if they were, living with men who could ruddy populate GQ and still have some left over for the next seven issues meant she wouldn't be impressed by him.

Women wouldn't be impressed, he meant.

Needing a distraction from his thoughts, his eyes flickered over his reflected image and he seized on his hair. It wasn't all that bad, now that he tried to care for it, really. Looked rather like most other fellows' styles. At least he wasn't going bald. That'd just make things worse. The color wasn't bad either. The natural red highlights perked it up some.

He snorted. Women didn't look at hair that much.

Well, maybe a little. He stood up straighter and turned on the light over the mirror.

A few small scars here and there on his cheeks from years of neglect, abuse, and acne. His eyes magnified them, turned them into huge gashes. He shook his head. "I could give the old hunchback pointers, couldn't I?"

He hated the way his mouth moved, the extra flexibility and strength in his jaw distorting his face. He looked away from it in distaste. Unhappily, he stared into his own eyes rather than at his lips. Mud brown, his orbs. If they were at least green or blue, he might not be too bad off. But they were plain old brown. Like a toad.

They were extraordinarily deep and clear, almost liquid in appearance. A more objective eye might have noticed that he was no longer a skinny orphan and had grown into his looks some, that his mouth was no wider than that of other men who were considered good-looking, and that his eyes were amazingly expressive of his emotions. He was healthy and well-muscled, moved with grace, and carried himself upright, without slouching.

No such eye was looking into Toad's bathroom mirror, though.

Disappointed again, he sighed and moved away from his hated image. "No point. Probably has a boyfriend back home, anyway."

He leaped onto the tub to avoid Lockheed, who was crouched under his sink staring up at him. "Now, what do you want?"

Lockheed blinked, then jerked his head toward the door.

"You can talk. Why don't you?"

The dragon flipped his wings once. "Hurts."

"It hurts you to talk."

The animal scampered over to the side of the tub and pushed the door with his nose so that it opened wider. "Kitty hurts."

Without a thought, Toad gracefully sprang through the door and leaped down the hall to his bedroom. 

Lockheed nodded once and called to the man from the bathroom. He had reached Kitty's door. "No."

Toad paused, apprehensive, his hand on the knob. "No what?"

Lockheed blinked innocently and hopped into the hallway toward him. "Boyfriend."

The animal bent to nibble his side and Toad stared at him for a few seconds. He'd almost swear the creature was implying something, but he dismissed it. No way could the thing mean what he thought it did. He turned the knob and entered his bedroom.

Kitty was shivering, her cheeks flaming red, her curly brown hair strewn over his pillow. She looked up as he entered with wide, hot eyes and shuddered under the pile of covers. The tray was overturned on the floor to the left of the bed, cup overturned, plate and fork scattered over the brown carpet. "I'm sorry." She pulled her right arm out from under the pile and gestured, then pulled it back in, quivering. "Cold in here."

He gently touched her forehead with the back of his left hand. She was burning. He sighed. "Let's get your temp down."

She protested the removal of her covers as he pulled them off her and threw them to the floor. "D … don't. Please." Her arms crossed over her breasts and she tried to pull the sleeves of her nightgown down further. Her thin toes curled as he took her into his arms, supporting her shoulders and legs. He curled her left arm around his neck.

"It won't take long. I promise." He bounded for the door, powerful legs only taking one jump before he sailed through the doorway.

She giggled. "It's like flying. You're lucky." She held tightly to his neck, shivering, as he set her down on the bathmat and stripped her gown over her head. "Hey." She huddled over, hugging herself tight with her arms, her eyes pleading with him. Her gold Star of David swung from its chain at her throat.

"We already had this discussion. You lost. Remember?" He tossed the gown out the door and closed it firmly, trying not to look at the naked woman. She was sick. It wasn't right. Her breasts were heaving, in perfect proportion to her body.

Damn it.

Lockheed whistled outside as he bent to turn on the tub, making sure the water was warm, but not too warm. "She's all right," he called back. He heard a disgruntled "eep" through the door, but he was not going to let the animal in. There was no need for a chaperone.

He reached for her and swung her into the water. She shrieked and tried to phase through it, but was only partly successful. "Cut that out," he admonished, holding her body down as the tub filled.

She stared up into his eyes and turned solid. "How far back do they go?"

"What?" He tore his gaze from her and watched the water flowing into the tub instead. She hugged her knees, trembling.

"Your eyes. Deep."

"Hmph." He turned off the water.

"How'd you hide the speaker?"

"The what?" He remained crouched down at the tap end, testing the temperature of the water with one hand while he turned his head toward her.

"In my … your room." The red spots on her cheeks remained.

"Ah. That. Little invention of my own. I made the covering for it a few years after I built the sound system. Thin oak veneer treated with a little miracle. Stops the light, but not sound." He took his hand out of the water, shaking off the drops.

"You built it?" She closed her eyes and stretched her neck backward. "Wow."

He shrugged. "Nothing special. I couldn't rely on anyone else to do it for me. I've always been okay with machines."

"Typical English understatement." She mimicked his lower-class accent perfectly, eyes closed, tone mocking. "I've always been okay at building high class sound systems that would blow most others out of the water, creating laptops that are more efficient than Apple can make, traveling faster than a speeding bullet, and singing like an angel. It's nothing, really, any more than the five-storey museum I built yesterday out of toothpicks and old lorry parts was."

He cleared his throat, seeking a safer topic of conversation so his blush could fade. "Good accent."

"Thank Excalibur." She opened her right eye and winked, then winced and closed it. "It hurts to look."

He knew the feeling. He turned from her so she wouldn't have to see his face. "Arthur and all that, hm?"

"Yeah." She relaxed a little in the water. "Sing for me again."

"Why?" He touched her forehead again. Still too hot.

"Gives me something to focus on. Calms me down." She smiled weakly and coughed. "Please."

He was about to refuse when he thought of something. He hadn't heard the song in twenty years, yet it came to mind when she spoke of calming down. The day woman at the orphanage sometimes sang a little tune when she was cleaning. 

Green gravel, green gravel, the grass is so green.

The fairest of ladies I ever have seen.

I'll wash you in milk, and I'll clothe you in silk,

And I'll write down your name with a gold pen and ink.

He had listened to it one day, standing outside, watching a woman and her son. They were heading to the gardens up the street, no doubt, and the song had given him a brief hope that someday, someone would want him like that. Someone would write his name on the adoption papers, and he would matter.

He sang it to her now, not looking at her, hands in his lap, legs crossed, remembering that day. It had been warm for once, warm and clear, no rain all day. He faltered and stopped on the last words, re-living his boyish wish for a family.

"Teach it to me." She leaned over the side and touched his arm with a wet fist.

Why not? Not like he had anything better to do, did he? Her trembling alto followed his sure tenor until she stopped, panting, and said, "Okay. Got it. You go first."

"Go first?"

She blinked at him. "It's a round."

A round? He'd known the thing for longer than she'd been alive. He didn't think it could be sung that way. Still, she was sick, so he'd indulge her for now.

He began and she joined in. He was surprised. It was rather good as a round. Her voice followed his twice through and ended on its own, plaintively. He watched her sing, smiling. Who knew that was what the bally thing was, anyway?

They stared at each other, neither wanting to give up the feeling of closeness after working together as they had. He considered speaking, but didn't know what to say. Kitty opened her mouth but closed it again without a word. Then Lockheed flung himself at the door. "Gleep," he said urgently.

The moment broken, they both looked away. Toad felt her forehead perfunctorily, his eyes on the door. "You're cooler. Get back into your gown. I'll go see what's bothering the overgrown lizard." He swiftly vanished.

Kitty sat in the cooling water holding her head. Who knew that one day she'd end up singing duets with Toad in reality, not in some drug-induced dream? She stood shakily, reaching for the mat with one weak leg, then wrapped a fat towel around her body, feebly rubbing until some of the water was gone from her skin. She threw her nightgown on, pink ruffles covering her chilled skin. The cotton clung to her legs as she looked out, then walked slowly to the bedroom. Toad was not there. Neither was Lockheed. She covered herself as best she could, then closed her eyes. She would rest for a little while. She hummed as she relaxed into sleep.


	5. Searching

The motorcycle roared up to the private lane. Remy paused, looking from the map to the weathered wooden sign pointing down the road.

"You sure this is the place, sugar?" Rogue stretched her neck to remove the kinks in it and gripped his waist tightly.

"Pretty sure, chere. Professor got some dead air back this way." He coughed a little. "Y'angry at your amour, or just want to switch places?"

Rogue blushed, relaxing her grasp. "Sorry. I wasn't payin' attention."

Remy pouted. "Not payin' attention to your Remy? Chere. That hurt."

She hit him playfully. "Go on, swamp rat. Kitty might need us."

***************************

He'd been found. He hadn't anticipated being found. He swore, passionately, under his breath. He'd have to get Kitty into the basement after he put up his first line of defense.

Lockheed fluttered on the floor, distracting him. "I don't bleedin' have time for this." He waved the animal off impatiently and set off the program, then headed up the stairs.

"Taking Kitty with you?"

He stopped. "Yes." He rounded on the dragon. "You stay here and keep quiet. Don't let those pals of yours know you're here."

"Promised." Lockheed rested before the basement monitor, content.

He bounced up the stairs and opened her door, folding her into his arms again. She was cool to touch and cuddled against his chest, wrapping an arm around his neck and murmuring nonsense. He picked up a few things for her, then retreated into the basement.

***********************

They roared up the road, both people looking for the source of the dead spot where the Professor couldn't detect anything. Trees, rocks, dirt, plants, all seemed normal at first.

Then they saw the cottage.

It was a small, neglected place, with dirty, broken windows and an aura of abandonment. Still, Remy pulled up to its worn, off the hinges gate and turned off the bike.

Rogue rose into the air to look it over, while Remy sauntered over the fence and started searching on the surface.

After an hour, they had found almost nothing. A discarded beer can here, a tennis shoe there.

Remy paused at the gate and looked down at it as they were about to leave. "Chere? Shouldn't there be more rust on this ol' thing?"

Rogue sighed. "I'm tired of rust. Let's keep going."

The couple kicked the motorcycle back to life and surged up the road again, looking for Kitty.


	6. But Now I See

Lockheed was frustrated.

He knew humans had very complex mating rituals, compared to those of his race. In the Flock, if a male was interested in choosing a mate, he would give her some food and sing for her, maybe even touch her and do a little dance. If she was interested, she ate and let him touch her. Then soon, eggs came, and more Flock. It was easy.

Humans, on the other hand, had weird mating rituals. Sometimes, like the wild human Logan, they pretended to mate, spending a night or two together and then leaving each other. That didn't make any sense.

Sometimes they didn't mate at all but stayed together anyway, like Rogue and Remy. Why would anyone do that? You couldn't have eggs that way.

But he knew Kitty by now and knew human mating rituals well enough to know that Toad wanted Kitty as his mate, and Kitty wanted him, too.

Why weren't they mating?

It wasn't because they weren't interested in each other. Kitty was pretending to be sick, now, to keep from having to leave the house. Toad was playing along, too, pretending to worry about her.

It wasn't that another male wanted Kitty. He'd made certain the Toad knew that, several times, speaking the weird language the humans used.

Somehow, Kitty seemed to think that the man wasn't interested in her. That was silly. He gave her food. He gave her a computer. He sang to her. Lockheed could see that he wanted her.

He didn't tell her, though. Lockheed didn't understand that, either. Humans could be oblivious to things like that, so most humans told each other things like that, to make up for their lack of perception. But the man didn't speak up, didn't say he wanted Kitty as his mate.

Of course, he didn't believe that Kitty wanted him. Again, silly. Kitty didn't need him prompting her to seek Toad out these days. She ran to him if he wasn't there when she woke up. She watched him as he moved. She tuned up his hard drives for him. She smelled of desire for him sometimes. Was the man's nose dead?

Maybe Lockheed would just have to tell the blind humans what was plain to see, if they kept being stubborn like this. He would start with Kitty. She would listen to him.


	7. Dark Revelation

She huddled in bed in the basement of Toad's house. He was still worried that the X-men would come back, so he hadn't restored the upper floors. She wondered what he was doing.

"Lockheed!" The small animal suddenly touched her with his cold nose. "I didn't know you were there."

"Kitty?" He pressed in to her body. "Why do you not mate?"

"Mate?" She held him. "Jeez, Lockheed…"

"He would be a good mate."

She sighed. "There's a little thing called love that has to happen first."

The animal pressed harder. "Both have love, though."

"What?" She squeezed him tighter. He didn't. He couldn't.

He let out a sharp cry as she embraced him, then panted as she released his body. "You love him. He loves you. Mate."

She got up, feeling the cold floor under her feet. "I … I don't love him." Did she? She hadn't really thought about it.

Lockheed sat up on her pillow. "Do. You seek him out. You look at him the way you did Piotr. You love him."

She paced, only pausing to put on some old socks. Okay, so she liked Toad. She didn't try to deny that. He was funny. He could understand the stuff she talked about. She didn't have to put things into easier words for him.

But did she love him?

She scowled.

She'd been pretending she was sick so she could stay longer. She sometimes came up with stuff to say just so she could hear his voice in response. She liked watching him, even when all he was doing was fixing a connection or adding a graphic to a program.

Did that add up to love?

She gave up and sat back down on the bed. "Even if I do, so what? He doesn't love me."

Lockheed ducked his head. "I don't believe in you, you know." His voice was a near-perfect imitation of Toad's, with defiance in every word. "I never have. Course, you've never given me a reason, have you?"

She closed her eyes and listened, imagining how he looked as he talked. He was probably pacing, strong legs propelling him back and forth, maybe even jumping some.

"Still, assuming that you do exist for sake of argument, I have only one favor to ask." He paused. "It's not a large one. Promise.

"You never answered the large ones, anyway." He chuckled, resentful. Then his tone changed, becoming more pleading, though he retained a hard edge to his words. "When she leaves me, please, make me not care. Make me forget all about her. Take away all these stupid dreams I've been having of her, staying here, loving me.

"God, please, if you're out there. Let me stop loving Kitty." He swallowed back the tears. "If Erik could stand the loss of Christine, I can stand losing her."

The old pink nightgown Kitty wore was sodden with tears once Lockheed had stopped speaking. He cared. He cared that much?

It swept through her as she sniffled and shook, as Lockheed came over and crooned to her in worry, that she did love him, too. She never wanted to leave him. But she didn't see any way she could stay once she got better. "Oh, Lockheed. Sometimes I wish I was more like you."

He blinked at her and cocked his head, curious. She wiped away her tears. "I wish it was all just simple. Why does life have to be so complicated?"

"Simple. Mate."

She sighed and looked at the chair. She'd put her clothes on the old wooden rocking chair Toad used when he came to see her. Might as well put them on. She wasn't going to get any more sleep.

"Should tell him."

She hung her head. "When I know what to say, maybe I will."


	8. All I Ask of You

**Hi, Harry! Just wanted to let you know that Lockheed says, "Gleep," and here's an update! Hope all of my readers are happy with it!**

The past few days, Kitty had been very odd. He had restored the house now that the X-men seemed to have given up their search. Maybe that explained why the woman refused to leave him alone.

She would take a book or another project wherever he went, but she didn't spend much time reading or working. She stared at him, instead. Due to his peculiar eyes, he had enhanced peripheral vision, and he saw that much of the time they were together, she watched him closely.

It was disturbing him greatly.

He couldn't understand why she was staring so much at him. Certainly he was a sight to behold, but after a month, hadn't she seen everything he had? Yet her hazel eyes inevitably turned to his face as he worked.

He was glad that she had volunteered to make tea, for it gave him time alone to think, without that overarching feeling of being under the microscope. He stretched, yawning, moving his neck from side to side to work the kinks out.

What was it about his face?

Cold shivered down his spine. Could it be that she was thinking about leaving him?

He had been amazed when she kept making excuses to stay. He thought, at first, it was merely that she wanted to give herself more time to heal. Then he believed it might instead mean that she was unhappy with the X-men and wished to punish them by staying away. He didn't care. He went with her flimsiest excuses, her forced coughs, as long as it gave him one more day with her.

That was probably it. She was gathering up her courage to leave him, to face his horrid visage and tell him goodbye.

She walked in, beaming, holding a tray with the tea things on it and a plate of cakes. Cranberry. His favorites. Of course. To soften the blow. Her favorite sweater, and his, the soft peach signaling his doom.

She smiled. Naturally. Give the Phantom a smile before you leave him.

But all she said was, "Hope you like it. I brought milk and sugar. I've never made tea before. I found your recipe for the mu … cakes in the pantry."

He grunted and took a cup. He slowly added sugar to it, trying to delay the inevitable.

"Don't you want to try one?" She held up a cranberry cake.

He sighed. "Sure." He tried to sound cheery, but knew it fell flat.

Her hand brushed up against his as she gave him the cake. He closed his eyes and put the cake down on the table, taking a healthy gulp of tea. He coughed as the hot fluid scalded his tongue, and he realized he had both added far too much sugar and no milk. He quickly took a bite of the cake.

She half-rose when he hurriedly dropped his cup on the table, but relaxed as he bit into the cake. "Well, I wanted to talk to you about something … what is your real name, anyway?"

He swallowed. "Mortimer Toynbee."

"Oh." She looked down at her cup. "Anyway, I wanted to tell you something."

The alarm light started blinking over the television set. He leaped up, delighted, saying, "Later. Someone's coming."

***********************************

The X-men had not been idle. Since Kitty Pryde had gone missing, everyone had been thoroughly searching for her worldwide. The suspicions Remy had about the location he and Rogue had found in Scotland were not top priority, but they had finally come down to searching there. Wolverine, Nightcrawler, Gambit, and Rogue were driving up the private lane to search it again.

***********************************

Kitty, Toad, and Lockheed watched them approach with varying expressions of disbelief, horror, and disappointment. Kitty shook her head once, then smiled. "Stay here. Both of you. Right here. I'll be back."  


Toad frowned and watched as she ran out to the road to meet her friends. Lockheed looked at him and blinked innocently. He asked, "Why's she coming back?"

The dragon dropped to the ground and pattered away. Toad sighed, but stayed where she'd asked him to, watching the monitor as she approached her friends. They stopped their car and got out. She hugged them. Lucky bastards, even the blue fuzzy demon. They all started talking at once, but she held up a hand and talked to them. They listened for a minute, then began frowning. The short, stocky Wolverine blurted out something, followed by the lanky, deceptively cool Gambit. Rogue looked worried. Nightcrawler's menacing visage and flaming eyes darted from Rogue to Kitty as she tried to answer Wolverine and Gambit.

Music blared from the speakers and he leaped to the ceiling as the sound screeched through his ears. "Stop playing with the bloody sound system, or I'll have Kitty neuter you!"

He heard no response, but the sound came down to a reasonable level. It was one of his self-mixed instrumental CDs, the one he'd been listening to the first night she came. He closed his eyes for a minute, remembering her harsh breathing in the dim light, the green coverlet rising and falling with each sigh.

Kitty! What was she up to now? He landed on the floor before the monitor, which showed the car pulling off down the lane.

Gone.

She was gone. He hadn't had a chance to say goodbye. She had left him without a word.

Who needed her, anyway?!

************************

Kitty Pryde sneaked back into the cottage through the back door, dodging and twisting to stay out of range of the cameras. Her friends hadn't wanted to let her go. They had to admit, once she forced them to, that she was an adult who had the right to make her own decisions, however. 

That didn't keep them from following her at times, so she made sure to keep out of their sight as she made her way back to the house.

Lockheed met her as she quietly closed the back door. "Not gone Kitty?"

She walked through the kitchen, smiling. "Nope. I just had to persuade the X-men that I meant it when I said I wanted to stay here with Toad."

"He thinks Kitty is gone."

Her shoulders slumped. "Where is he?"

Lockheed flapped and walked her down to the basement room she had been staying in, then turned back to the music controls and skipped over several tracks.

*************************

"Mortimer?"

The room was dark. The electric clock had been turned off. There were no windows.

A tight, choked British voice said, "I told you I hate that ruddy name."

She took a step into the darkness. "What should I call you?"

Pause.

"Why did you bother coming back?"

"Bother?" She sighed. "There is the matter of Lockheed, you know."

"Forgot about him, didn't I?" He swallowed. "Taking the plane, are you?"

"Backwards talking you are." She phased and began walking cautiously through the dark room.

A laugh. "Suppose I am at that."

"It wasn't the only reason I came back."

The volume started increasing on the music. The first song she'd ever heard him sing. The first song he ever sang to anyone. "All I Ask of You."

He let the music play, letting the memory play in his mind. "Why, then?"

Her warm hand rested on his shoulder. He nearly jumped through the ceiling. "Sorry." Her voice was breathy, nervous, in the concealing dark.

"Why, Kitty? Why come back here at all? Your friends were here to take you back." Hope swelled with the music.

She gulped. "Well, Drew, I couldn't leave because …" She waited a moment, then sat in front of him, taking his left hand in her right. "What this song says is what I want. I'd rather be in the dark here with you than in the mansion again with the X-men. I've found that I'm … I love you. That's all there is to it."

His hand tightened on hers. "This isn't just some trick, now, is it, Xavier?" His voice rose angrily.

"Hey!" Kitty pulled her hand away. "Whatever problems the professor has, and believe me he has them, he'd never try to trick you like this."

He spoke quietly. "I find it hard to believe anyone could care for me, much less love me."

A laugh. "I'll have to teach you, then."

*****************************

Lockheed grinned from the monitoring station, then turned off the speakers to the room where Kitty and Toad were. There was loving. There was mating. True, it was more awkward than he expected. But it was a good thing.

He curled up and waited to be told. Eggs would come. Especially since he had finally figured out that the reason Kitty hadn't been having eggs were those pretty white pills she'd been taking.


End file.
